I Can See the Light, but the Darkness is Calling
by Vita Fidens
Summary: Sequel to: "She's a Few Cards Short of a Full Deck." Dean Ambrose has revealed his true intentions towards Liz Moore. But with another man on the horizon, how will he handle the competition? T: Language, implied sexuality
1. Chapter 1

I slowly walked down to the ring. I glanced to my left. I glanced to my right. There was no one else there. There was no one but Dean Ambrose waiting for me, a black curtain as his backdrop.

"Come on, Lizzy," he said impatiently. "We don't have all night."

His voice echoed in the big empty space, amplifying his irritation.

I floated down towards him as if I was dreaming. He held a gold cord in his hand that I somehow knew controlled the curtain – a curtain that seemed to hang in midair, suspended over the back portion of the ring as if by magic.

"Dean, what's going on?" I asked quietly, afraid of hearing my voice boom back at me in echoes. "Why am I here?"

He shook his head, obviously annoyed. "I told you that I had a gift for you." He held his hand out. "Come here."

I was suddenly beside him in the ring. I didn't remember moving. "None of this makes sense," I said shakily.

"Shhh," he murmured, wrapping his arms around my waist from behind and rest his chin on my shoulder. "Don't talk. Just listen," he said quietly in my ear.

"I've tried so hard to prove my love for you, Lizzy." Even though he was speaking in my ear, the words reverberated throughout the entire arena. "I've done everything in my power to make you mine. Yet you still resist me." I could feel him shake his head. "We're fated; we are destined to be together until the end of time."

He paused for a few minutes. My skin started crawling uncomfortably.

"I thought," he finally continued, "for a long time on why you resist me. It came to me so suddenly, as if it were…divine intervention. That's what this is all about," he said, gesturing in front of us at the curtain. "Would you like to see the death of your resistance?"

I shook my head vehemently, but that didn't stop him. He tugged on the gold rope and the curtain fell.

The horror was immediate and brutal, hitting me directly in the stomach and doubling me over, ultimately forcing me to my knees.

There were dead men hanging in the ring - pale, lifeless corpses that had had their eyes plucked out, the resulting rivulets of dark red running down their motionless faces. As I looked closer, I could see that they were all men I knew – Sheamus, Wade, Paul, Seth, and Roman.

"What…?" I asked, glancing up at Dean from my knees.

Dean gleefully ran up to Wade and shoved his lifeless corpse, making it swing forward and backward eerily. "Your hope for a new healthy, adult relationship – it's dead, Lizzy."

I could see the word 'Ambrose' being sliced into Wade's torso as if by magic.

"Your hope of a savior," he said, pointing at Sheamus, whom he then kicked for good measure. Sheamus' torso began to bleed with the outline of Dean's name.

"Your hope for a career," he said, turning to Paul with a noted deference that had been lacking with the other two.

"And, finally, your hope for friends to keep you in the right," he gestured towards Seth and Roman. "Traitors," he muttered bitterly, spitting on them as he turned away.

I watched, horrified, as blood dripped down to the canvas from each new wound on these men. They had all been branded with Ambrose's name like I had.

"You have nothing left," he said, coming back to me. "_I _am all that you have."

He lightly touched my stomach, and I could see his name bloom in blood beneath my shirt.

"You're mine, Elizabeth, now and forever. Nothing will stop me." He bent and put his face directly over mine. "There's nothing left for you but me, sweetheart. Give in now. Give in."

He bent and kissed me brutally, blood pouring out of his mouth into mine.

I don't think it would surprise anyone to know that I woke up screaming.


	2. Chapter 2

The dreams had been ongoing for a few weeks now.

I could feel my body becoming increasingly run down. My usual rushed pace had slowed down to a pained trudge in everything I did. Even my thoughts seemed to slow – it took me much longer to mentally process any task that I was given.

The odd thing about this was that Dean was actually staying away from me during this time. Sure, there was his usual bit of creepily watching me whenever I was around him – but there were no phone calls, no surprise visits, no more encounters in darkened alleyways. He was being damn-near normal, at least for him.

I was having a difficult time understanding what was going on in my head. I struggled through the weeks until Paul pulled me aside and told me, in no uncertain terms, to handle my shit.

Reluctantly, I called the doctor at the center and handled my shit. He wrote me a limited prescription for Ambien and insisted I come in early for my follow-up appointment.

The Ambien made me feel like a whole new human being. If I dreamed at all, I didn't remember them. I finally started to catch up and became myself again.

I went into the therapy session feeling confident, and I left it feeling like a punching bag that had just gotten one hell of a workout.

The trouble had started when the doctor asked why I was having trouble sleeping.

"Nightmares," I said. "I think being back on the road – all the stress related to making decisions, traveling – I think it just wore on me."

"Do you think that you may have rushed into your return?"

I shook my head. "No. I'm very happy to be back."

The doctor glanced at me above his glasses. "And your interactions with Mr. Ambrose?"

I shrugged. "Limited. He spends most of his time with his girlfriend."

"And does that bother you?"

"Not at all. He seems happy," I lied through my teeth. "He's been leaving me to my own devices, and I've been leaving him to his. It's a satisfying arrangement for everyone."

"I'm pleased to hear that, Elizabeth," he said thoughtfully. "But your nightmares concern me. Do you want to talk about the content of these dreams?"

I hesitated. "I can't ever remember," I finally said. "I just wake up terrified, and I can't go back to sleep."

He could tell that I was lying. He didn't push me, though; he just tapped his pen on his teeth and stared at me for a few moments before continuing. "I'll give you a month's worth of Ambien," he said. "But then I want to wean you off of it."

"Why?"

"I think you know exactly what's going on in your head. These dreams won't stop until you confront your demons. You're obviously not yet ready to do that, and if you don't sleep you'll be even more unstable. But I want to reevaluate where you are in a month, and I want us to start working through the lingering issues keeping you awake."

I'd agreed to it, but it put me in a foul mood. Being unable to sleep the night before the appointment hadn't helped.

Everywhere I turned, I was reminded of the ways Dean Ambrose had permanently impacted my life. My credibility had been so damaged that I couldn't even get a prescription for a fucking sleeping pill without the third degree – which I wouldn't have needed in the first place if I hadn't encountered Ambrose.

It was enough to drive me to drink.

Paul asked that night how my appointment had gone. I'd had to miss a meeting with the guys at 787 Studios to go.

"I've got a month's worth of Ambien and a follow-up appointment. We'll reevaluate then."

"Only a month's worth?" He asked, surprised. "That doesn't seem helpful."

"It's not. At all. But I'm nuts, so they apparently don't want me sleeping," I grumbled.

"I can't have you running off once a month to get more pills," he said thoughtfully. "I might have a solution for you."

I raised my eyebrow. "I'm listening."

"Dean is on Ambien. He has been for years. He just…refuses to take it. Now, I'm not saying that you should buy the pills from him…but if he were to be convinced to give you enough to get you through a few months…?"

I shook my head. "No, Paul. That's just asking to step into a hornet's nest."

"Why? I think it's a winning solution for everyone. You get your sleep; I get a functional assistant, Dean…"

"Gets rid of his stockpile of Ambien," a familiar voice broke in from behind us. I turned to see Ambrose standing in the doorway, a smirk on his face. "I'd be happy to share if you're having trouble getting to your pharmacy, Lizzy."

"I'm fine," I snapped.

He raised an eyebrow. "You certainly sound it." He paused. "Just let me know if you need any. I'll help you out."


	3. Chapter 3

He was waiting for me when I left the arena that night.

I usually left with Seth and Roman, but I'd sent them along before me tonight. I had a few things to finish up before I left, and I planned on going back to the hotel instead of out for the night, anyway. So I cut them loose.

That turned out to be a mistake.

"Trouble sleeping?" Ambrose asked as I walked out the door, a cigarette in his hand.

"None of your business," I replied, continuing on towards my rental car. To my great disdain, he followed behind me.

"I could help you," he said, reaching out to touch my arm.

I turned around and nearly hit him. "Leave me alone, Dean," I said, trying to keep my voice even. "And don't you ever touch me again."

He took a step towards me. "What are you going to do, Liz? You heard Paul – he can't have you running off every month to get more Ambien. The good doctor won't give you more until you face your issues. You can't face your issues with me without sounding like you're having a relapse of your delusions and getting locked back up, which I know you don't want. Face facts, Elizabeth – you need me."

I paused, my heart pounding in my throat. "What do you want from me?"

He moved even closer to me, our chests nearly touching. "I want to give you some Ambien. I want you to be able to sleep."

"Why?"

He smiled down at me, but the smile didn't reach his eyes. "Because I care about you, Lizzy. I care for your well-being."

He swooped down and kissed me, pushing me back into my car. He wrapped both hands in my hair, pressing his body completely against mine.

I wrenched away from him. He, amazingly, let me go.

"Does your girlfriend know that you're doing this?" I finally snapped.

He chuckled. "You _are_ jealous. Lizzy, she doesn't mean a thing to me – not like you do." He bent and kissed my neck, his hand coming up to grip my breast painfully. "God, I _ache_ for you," he murmured in my ear.

"Ugh, stop with the bad romance novel lines," I muttered angrily, putting both hands on his chest to shove him away again. He caught one of my hands and shoved it to his crotch.

"Does it feel like that's just a line, sweetheart?"

I tried to pull my hand away, but he gripped my wrist tightly, twisting it painfully. "Ah-ah-ah," he murmured, pressing his lips to my temple. "Tell me, Liz. Am I lying to you?"

"No," I said, disgusted, finally able to take my hand back. "Why don't you go home and fuck Becky with that?"

He grinned, laughing again. "You're so _adorable_." He grabbed me around the neck and kissed me once more. "Our time will come, baby. Just be patient."

I was saved from responding by an unlikely source.

"Liz, everything all right?"

I glanced to my left to see Wade Barrett walking towards us, a bag slung over his shoulder and a suspicious expression on his face.

"Everything's fine," Ambrose said, giving my neck one last squeeze before stepping away.

"I didn't ask you," Wade said slowly as he reached us.

I managed to smile at him. "Yeah, I'm all right, Wade. Thanks."

"I wanted to catch up with you or Paul tonight, anyway," he said slowly. "Do you have a few minutes?" He glanced at Ambrose, and the expression on his face made it plain that he wasn't welcome in this conversation.

"Sure," I said, trying desperately to not sound terrified of how Ambrose would react to that little slight.

"Excellent. There's a nice-looking bar around the corner. Let me buy you a drink." He reached out his hand, and I gratefully took it.

Wade pulled me away, glancing over his shoulder every now and again to make sure Ambrose wasn't following us.

Finally, we were safely tucked into a booth in the cozy little bar Wade had mentioned.

"Thank you," I said as he came back with our drinks – a beer for him, a rum and coke for me. He'd remembered.

"You're welcome." He paused, getting settled into the booth. "Have you told anyone about him?"

I shook my head. "That was only the first…second time," I admitted, "that he's cornered me like that."

He was quiet for a while, chewing on the inside of his cheek. "You need to be more careful. If I hadn't come by…"

"He would have done to me what he's already done a million times," I said tiredly, feeling anger creeping up on me. "I've survived him before. I could have done it again."

"I'm sorry," he said immediately. "I didn't mean to make you sound helpless."

I took a deep breath. "Thank you. I still appreciate your timely arrival." I rested my hand against my forehead, trying to rub away the beginnings of a headache. "What did you want to discuss with me?"

He grinned. "Oh, I just wanted to buy you a drink."

It took me a minute, but I laughed. "Impressive."

"You think so?" He laughed, reaching across the table to grab my hand in an awkwardly endearing way. "How was that move?" He asked, raising an eyebrow.

I couldn't help but laugh, smiling widely. "Smooth as silk, Mr. Barrett," I teased. "A lady could be in real trouble around you."


	4. Chapter 4

We passed a few pleasant hours together, talking about everything and nothing in particular.

I noticed that Wade avoided the topic of my institutionalization, and I found myself grateful for that. It was one thing to explain it to Seth and Ro; it was another to try to explain it to Wade. I wasn't sure why that was, honestly – it just felt wrong to me, so I wanted to stay away from it.

The bartender made the announcement for last call before I knew it, and we gathered up our things to go.

"Are you all right to drive?" He asked as we walked out the door.

"I shouldn't," I admitted.

He nodded before hailing a cab. We rode back to the hotel in relative silence, my hand cradled in his. It felt comfortable. I tried to shove down the fear that came with that notion, and the thoughts of what Ambrose would do if he found out.

Wade walked me to my room, and we lingered outside the door for a few minutes.

"I'm glad you're back, Liz," he finally said gently, leaning forward and kissing me softly.

I surprised myself by returning his kiss.

I was dazed when he finally pulled back, a small smile on his lips. "Good night," he said, gently squeezing my shoulder.

"Good night," I replied, my heart pounding in my chest. I moved to unlock the door and thought better of it. "Wade?"

He turned around and I launched myself at him – hard enough to push him into the wall – and began kissing him intensely. It didn't take him long to respond in kind, his arms wrapping tightly around me.

His hands began wandering, pushing my shirt up just a bit and running his fingers along my sides. I felt him lightly brush the edge of one of the scars on my stomach and pulled away quickly.

"Sorry," I said quietly, feeling a hot flush come over my cheeks. "I don't know…"

He laughed. "Don't you ever apologize for kissing me like that." He put two fingers under my chin and brought my face up to his again.

This kiss quickly became just as passionate, and I had to force myself to step away. "Good night, Wade," I found myself saying, really hating those words.

He smiled, and leaned forward to place a kiss on my forehead. I felt a warmth rush down to my toes and back up through my head. The fact that the man could do that to me with something as inane as his lips on my forehead…it was almost enough to make me drag him into my room and see what happened when his lips went elsewhere.

Almost.

Instead, I gave him one last – short – kiss and hurried into my room. I fell face-first onto the bed, groaning.

I'd gotten myself into one hell of a mess.

It had been six months since I'd last had sex. Between the hospital, my outpatient treatment, and just working – the months had crept up on me. It hadn't bothered me until tonight. I hadn't felt even a slight hint of desire for anyone.

Now, I wanted to rush back out into the hallway to see if I could catch Wade before he made it to his room. I was uncomfortably turned on, and I wanted nothing more than to be with him tonight. It was to the point where my rational brain had completely shut down, and I simply didn't care about the consequences.

I pulled out my phone, debating.

"Aw hell," I muttered, finally flipping to his entry in my phone book.

I was just about to hit the call button when a text message came in that stopped me cold.

'You never kissed me like that.'


	5. Chapter 5

I elected to ignore him, but I also put the phone down. The harsh reality of my situation had flooded back to me, and I knew that being with Wade was simply impossible. Being with anyone was simply impossible, as long as Ambrose was around.

My phone began ringing. I didn't even look at it.

I was so tired of this maniac running my life. I was exhausted by his constant intrusions, I was exhausted by his obsession. I just didn't know how to handle it any more.

Another text message came in. 'What are you doing, Lizzy? Naughty, naughty girl.'

And another. 'Do you want some help? I can be right there.'

The phone began ringing again, and I wasn't surprised to feel tears start running down my cheeks. I couldn't even be sexually frustrated without his input.

I finally elected to pick up after the fifth call in a row. "Yeah?"

"Am I interrupting?" He asked, the glee obvious in his voice.

"You're not interrupting anything," I said truthfully.

"That's too bad."

"What do you want?"

"You."

"Not going to happen. Why are you calling?"

He sighed. "I'm calling because I wanted to tell you that your message is received."

I could feel my brow furrow. "What?"  
"I get it, Lizzy. You don't have to do that again. I made you jealous with Becky, so you wanted to turn the tables and make me jealous. You succeeded. I think I broke my hand," he added conversationally. "I wanted to break his face, but I hit the wall instead so I wouldn't upset you."

It _was_ oddly considerate of him. "Thanks…?"

"You're welcome. See? You're making me a better man already."

"Good night, Dean," I said, not wanting to play this game any longer.

"Oh come on, sweetheart. Just give me a little pillow talk. I like being on the phone with you, knowing that you're drifting off to sleep. It makes me feel so close to you."

"I don't have the patience for this tonight," I snapped. "Just leave me alone. Please."

"Do you need an Ambien? I can come by with one. I can tuck you in. I'll hold you and keep you safe while you drift away. Doesn't that sound nice?"

I shook my head. "No. It doesn't sound nice. Not with you."

"Don't be this way," he said, and I could hear his voice creeping towards anger. "I get that you're frustrated, and you're tired, and you're horny and jealous and you have all of these..." he paused to sigh, "complex emotions for me swirling around in your head. But you don't have to push me away. I'm right here."

"My emotions for you aren't at all complex," I replied immediately, wanting to correct that particular notion. "I can't stand you, Ambrose. I've never been able to stand you and I never will be able to stand you. When are you going to grasp that concept?"

He was quiet for a few minutes. "You're obviously too tired to be anything but a bitch right now," he said coldly. "You know, I try to be nice. I try to be considerate and complimentary, and it gets me nowhere with you. I fucked you more when I was being an absolute bastard."

"Because I didn't have a choice then," I snapped.

"What makes you think you have one now?" He retorted.

I fell silent. I had no idea how to respond to that.

"Please," I finally said, hearing the defeat in my own voice. "I just want to get some sleep."

"Did I get a little too close to the truth for you, sweetheart?" He asked snidely. "Did I hit a sore spot? Is that one of the thoughts you've had running in your head the last few months?" I, again, didn't know how to respond.

"Make this easy on yourself, Elizabeth," he continued after a few moments. "Just give me what I want. I'm not a joke. This is not a game. And I will not be going away."

"No," I said softly. "I don't believe you will be going. Not unless I can make you."

He laughed. "Give it your best shot, baby. You think that you can outwit me? You haven't seen anything yet."

The line went dead.


	6. Chapter 6

"Lizzy, wait up," a familiar voice said from behind me.

I turned around, surprised, as the red-headed Irishman caught up with me. "What do you want?" I barked. I hadn't slept at all after my conversation with Ambrose last night, and Sheamus was the last person I wanted to deal with.

Well…the second-to-last. He was towards the bottom of the list, anyway.

"Truce," he said, holding his hands up palms out. "I got carried away at the bar the other night. I wanted to apologize to you. I said some nasty things."

I stared at him for a few minutes, entirely unamused and unwilling to forgive him.

His shoulders dropped and he swallowed hard. "I really am sorry, Lizzy."

I considered him for a few moments longer. "I appreciate the apology," I finally said. "I'll even forgive you. But don't you think for a minute that we will ever be friendly again. I don't need men like you in my life."

I turned and stalked away, going to spread my particular brand of joy among the populace. No wonder everyone scattered when they saw me coming.

Everyone except Wade, who actually sought me out with a friendly smile.

"I've got a bone to pick with you," he said, wagging his finger at me in a teasing sort of way.

"And what might that be?" I replied, a small smile finding its way onto my face against my will.

He stepped closer to me, making sure nobody was around. "I had a very difficult time getting to sleep last night," He said in a low voice. "I was a little…riled up."

I could feel myself blushing and I let out a nervous giggle. "I was, too," I admitted. God, I felt like a seventeen year-old girl who suddenly finds herself alone with the Prom King.

"When can I see you again?" He asked.

I smiled up at him, surprised. "You want to?"

He looked bewildered. "Of course I do. Not only are you one hell of a kisser," he bent and quickly pressed his lips to mine. "And I do mean," he murmured close to my ear, "one _hell_ of a kisser." I could feel my face growing even warmer. "I also rather enjoy spending time with you. I really think that there might be something worth exploring between the two of us."

I was shocked to hear those words come out of his mouth. "You know my history," I said slowly. "But you still want…?"

He nodded seriously. "I still want you. I don't doubt that there's more to the story that I haven't heard, and I don't doubt that we are in for a world of hurt with Mr. Ambrose if we go down this road. But there's one thing you should know, and remember this even if you don't want to be with me, Liz – _you are worth it_. Any man who tells you otherwise is just a coward."

I fought back the few tears that had come to my eyes while I stood on my toes to give him a quick kiss.

"Thank you," I said. "That's really sweet of you to say."

He smiled, his hands resting comfortably on my hips. "Tonight?"

All the reasons I should say 'no' ran through my head.

I said yes anyway.


	7. Chapter 7

I waited impatiently in the bar at our hotel for Wade.

We'd agreed to meet there for a few reasons – it would be easier to get ready and not go out sweaty and work-weary, and if we happened to drink a little too much we could just walk upstairs in order to go to sleep...or do other things.

I shook that thought out of my head immediately. I didn't want to get ahead of myself.

He was five minutes late. I was trying not to let that bother me, but found myself compulsively checking my phone for any word from him.

At ten minutes, I sent him a text message. At twenty, I tried calling – no answer. At thirty, I decided that of course it had been too good to be true and ordered my first drink with the intention of getting completely shitfaced.

I was halfway through my second drink, trying very hard not to start crying, when I felt a warm hand clap on my shoulder.

I turned expecting Wade, who was going to hear a hell of a lot of nasty words come out of my mouth, and saw Sheamus standing there instead.

"All right, Lizzy?" He asked.

"Fine," I said sourly, turning back to face the bar.

He didn't get the hint. He slid into the seat beside me. "You look nice," he said. "Meeting someone?"

"Apparently not," my tongue supplied before I could stop it. I _was_ on my way to being inebriated. Fantastic timing.

"Oh," he said, obviously feeling awkward. "I'm sorry." He was quiet for a few moments. "Hey, let me buy your next one. Then maybe we can chat for a bit."

I slowly turned and shot him a look of pure malice. "I already told you – I don't want to be your friend," I snarled in a low voice.

"I know that," he said calmly. "I'm just trying to make it so you don't shoot daggers at me with your eyes every time I walk by you." He paused. "One drink, and if you still don't want anything to do with me afterwards, so be it. But I can't just let this all wash away without at least trying to make things right between us."

I sat and stewed for a few minutes.

I would be lying if I said that part of my motivation wasn't anger. It certainly was. I'd been made a fool of by Wade, and he hated Sheamus with a passion. It was spiteful and it was stupid, but as was so often the case when I was angry – I wasn't thinking clearly.


	8. Chapter 8

I woke up shivering, with a pounding headache. That would be the hangover greeting me.

The shivering was unexpected, though. I reached for the blankets and pulled them up over me, surprised when I felt the sheet against my bare skin.

I tried to remember the last bits of the previous evening, and found that I couldn't. I must have been absolutely drunk. That would also explain the nudity – I tended to be very impatient with things when intoxicated, and clothing would have seemed a bit too difficult for me.

I rolled over and went back to sleep for a few hours, hoping to sleep off the headache.

No such luck.

I stood up to walk to my bathroom and was greeted with a deep ache in my thighs and groin. I shrugged it off and went about my business. It was only when I was washing my hands that I saw the bruises on my breasts.

Not bruises – hickies.

That woke me up.

I returned to the main room and began digging through the purse I'd been carrying last night. My receipt from the bar was there, and it showed only two drinks.

I began to rack my brains harder to remember the last portion of the night. All I could remember was Sheamus buying me one drink. After that…nothing.

Nothing at all.

Now I might be something of a lightweight, but three drinks alone definitely wouldn't have made me black out.

I returned to the bathroom to get a drink of water and a brightly-colored foil wrapper in the trash can caught my eye.

Well, I'd been safe with whoever it was. That was mildly comforting.

I got dressed and went to grab my phone. I didn't have any text messages; I didn't have any missed calls – nothing at all.

I dialed Sheamus' number.

"Hey Lizzy," he said, breathing hard. "I'm at the gym. Can I call you back?"

"I just want to know what happened last night," I said slowly.

He laughed. "Are you serious?"

"I don't remember anything."

"Well that's a bit insulting," he replied.

"Sheamus…what did you do to me?"

"I bought you a drink," he said, his voice hard. "What _we_ did after that was entirely your idea. Can you blame me for participating?"

I swallowed hard. "I didn't mean to make any accusations," I lied. "I just woke up very confused and wanted some insight. I'm sorry to have interrupted you."

He was quiet for a moment, and I could hear gym noises – clanking, that wonderfully-appealing grunting – in the background. "It's all right," he finally said. "I suppose I'd be a bit panicked myself if I woke up and couldn't remember the night before."

"Thanks for being understanding. Enjoy your workout."

I hung up before he could reply.

I told myself that I was fine. I repeated those words aloud like a mantra, hoping that repetition would make them true.

It didn't.

I found myself curled into a ball, crying before long. The most disturbing part was when I began to rock my body back and forth, as I had done on a night that seemed so long ago now.

That may have been what snapped me out of it. I wasn't going to go down this road again. I wasn't going to be alone during whatever the hell this was.

I grabbed my phone and called Seth.

I intended to be strong and brave. Instead, when I heard his voice happily greeting me I started sobbing uncontrollably.


	9. Chapter 9

It didn't take long for Seth to get out of me what room I was in.

I'd been sitting between him and Roman on the bed for the past half-hour, trying so hard to calm myself down.

I told them the whole story through tears, finally explaining my conversation with Sheamus this morning.

"I don't think I drank too much," I said quietly. "I think there was something in my drink."

Roman squeezed his fists shut so tightly that his knuckles cracked.

"I'll kill him."

Seth, the most logical of all of us, reached over and lowered Ro's hands. "Just calm down. Let's get to the bottom of this."

He asked me a few questions, which I answered as best I could, before going to the hotel directory and calling down to the front desk. He said he'd checked out of his room and forgot the copy of his hotel folio; could they just give him the charges over the phone? He supplied Sheamus' room number. He listened intently and thanked the desk kindly before hanging up.

"Three drinks," he said. "Two Guinness, one rum and coke."

"I sure in hell wasn't drinking Guinness," I replied.

Roman nodded. "_Now_ I'm going to kill him."

Seth's phone started ringing. He glanced down at the caller ID and groaned. "Sorry guys, give me a minute," he muttered, picking up. "Hey, Dean. What's up?"

He listened for a few seconds. "Yeah, we're not there. Still in the hotel. Uh…we're kind of in the middle of something." He looked at me imploringly, and I shrugged. It didn't matter what Ambrose knew at this point. "We're in Liz's room. No, don't come down. I'm sure she doesn't want to see you."

I shook my head vehemently. No way in hell did I want to see him right now.

Seth looked at his phone, sighing. "I think he's on his way," he said, putting it back in his pocket.

"Joy," I replied flatly.

Roman slung his arm around my shoulders. "It'll be ok," he said absently, almost as if he was trying to tell himself that. "Everything's going to be all right."

We all went silent for a few minutes, Seth pacing in front of the bed.

I expected the knock on the door, but it still made me jump. Seth went to answer the door, and I heard him protesting against Ambrose coming in, but Dean would have none of it.

I stared at the floor, not wanting to even look at him. He burst in like gangbusters, staring intently at me. I expected him to be loud and brash and rude, and I found myself very surprised when he knelt down on the floor beside me.

I glanced over at him and his hand came up to wipe the tears off of my face.

"What happened, Lizzy?" He asked gently.

I could feel my eyes fill up again, and I turned and buried my face in Roman's chest. I couldn't say the words out loud again. Not to him.

I listened vaguely as Seth filled Ambrose in with low, hurried tones.

"I'll fucking kill him," Ambrose growled. "I am going to make that ginger son of a bitch wish he was never born. I'm going to bathe in his fucking BLOOD!" I heard a loud bang and then the door was wrenched open.

Roman gently detangled himself from me. "If we're going to keep Dean from hurting Sheamus, we need to go now," he explained.

I looked at him imploringly. "I know right now that you might want him to be hurt, baby girl," he said gently. "But I know you, and you'll regret this decision later if you don't do something to try and stop Dean."

I nodded weakly.

In five minutes, we were racing through the streets, trying to beat Ambrose to the arena.

We didn't make it in time to prevent the beating of Sheamus' life – but we did get there in time to save his ass.

I was bitter about that, if I was honest. A sick, angry part of me enjoyed watching Ambrose punch him repeatedly in the mouth. The normal part of me – wherever that was, and however much was left – was absolutely repulsed.

Roman and Seth managed to pull Dean off – Ro got in a kick to Sheamus's gut as he helped, I noticed – but Sheamus was definitely in a bad way by that time.

Heyman came rushing out. "What in the hell…?" he trailed off, shaking his head at the carnage. He turned to Dean. "Do I _want_ to know?"

"He hurt Lizzy," Ambrose panted.

Heyman turned towards me. "My office, now."


	10. Chapter 10

I explained everything as best I could, incredibly embarrassed by the situation.

"And you didn't call the police?" He asked, his hands clasped together on his desk.

"No," I started to explain. "It was my word against his, Paul. And my word was shaky at best. I didn't ask Ambrose for his help. I called Seth and Roman because I was upset. I never wanted this to happen."

He sighed, rubbing his temples. "You and Dean are such a volatile combination," he said in a low voice.

I nodded. He would get no argument from me on that count.

He was quiet for a long time. "I want to fire you, Liz," he said with a bitter laugh. "I want to do that not because you're not good at your job or you're not performing up to my standards. I want to fire you so that maybe, just maybe, this three-ring circus surrounding you stops." He paused. "But I can't do that. First, it's not right to do that to you when you're not actively creating this drama surrounding you. Second, Dean would have my head."

He looked up at me. "Let's call this what it was today – let's call it some well-deserved justice for Sheamus. I have no doubt that he did something to you, Liz. I have no doubt about that at all. I also doubt that any court would have convicted him. When he's conscious, I'll tell him just how lucky he was to get off that lightly once Dean found out."

"Thanks, Paul," I said quietly. "I promise, I'm going to try to stop all of this. I'm going to try really hard."

He nodded. "I know, Liz. I know."

I trudged out of his office feeling defeated, but also just a little bit vindicated. Part of me was glad that Sheamus had gotten what was coming to him. Part of me was so glad that I patted Dean Ambrose on the shoulder affectionately as I walked by.

I saw Wade later in the night, and he approached me confused.

"I heard there was a big hullaballoo earlier today," he said. "Do you have any details?"

I regarded him coldly. The irrational part of me blamed him entirely for the whole mess. "Not for the guy who stood me up." I tried to make it sound light-hearted. I failed.

His brow furrowed. "Stood you up? You cancelled on me."

"No I didn't," I said slowly.

He nodded. "Yes you did. You called from the arena last night and said you had more paperwork than you thought, and asked if we could reschedule."

I shook my head. "It wasn't me. I waited in the bar for you for an hour."

His face fell. "Oh Liz, I am so sorry."

I shook my head. "No, that's not your fault. Not at all." I paused. "I'm glad you didn't stand me up," I managed to say with a small smile.

"I'm not that type of guy," he replied.

"Good to know."

He was called away at that moment. After a few minutes of debating, I found a private spot and called Sheamus' phone.

I was shocked when he actually answered. He didn't sound happy about it, but he answered.

"Who put you up to it?" I asked without preamble. I already knew the answer, but I needed to hear it from him.

"The same guy who gave me two Ambien to put into your drink," he replied, his voice oddly nasal. "The beating wasn't part of the deal. I'll pay him back for that in time."


	11. Sequel

Thanks, once again, for the reading, reviews, PMs, favorites, follows, and all of the wonderful things you guys do to show me how much you're enjoying this twisted adventure. :)

The next part is up, and can be found under the title "Take Me to the Place We Can Start Happy Ever After." It's probably not what you think, as a fair warning - but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless.


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